


Summer Solstice

by Kirito_Potter



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Established Relationship, Food Sex, M/M, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirito_Potter/pseuds/Kirito_Potter
Summary: "What, birthday sex?" I ask, and I can't help but laugh. "Is that what this is?""Maybe," Baz whispers, breath cold on my ear. I shiver, not just from the temperature.





	Summer Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm a day late..... But that wasn't going to stop me!!

**SIMON**

 

To be honest, I've never been keen on celebrating birthdays. Not my own, at least. I'm not even sure it  _ is  _ my birthday, which sort of sours the whole affair. I wasn't really given a party as a kid, since the homes couldn't afford anything like that-- we were lucky to get extra servings at dinner as a "celebration." And once I started Watford, I wasn't even sure if I could ask for that kind of thing; my birthday is in the summer, so it's not like the party could have been in the middle of the school year. (Maybe it could have been. I'm hardly an expert.)

 

The point is, I don't think I've ever had a proper birthday party. I only thought to mention it a few days ago, and Pen was horrified, but there wasn't really enough time to custom-order a cake or rent a venue (neither of which were things I even realised you could do for a birthday).

 

This morning when I woke, Pen and Baz were waiting for me with a huge breakfast; pancakes and ham and eggs. And scones. So many scones. And then they told me today was for me, and I could choose what we did. It was a little overwhelming, truth be told. But it was fantastic, too. Everything today has been.

 

Just as I'm finishing my dinner (roast beef, and bangers and mash, and corn, and scones) Baz stands from the table.

 

"Baz?" I ask, voice muffled by potatoes. "Where're you goin'?"

 

He slips into the next room and reappears with a small bag. Penelope's got a box, and I'm worried I've missed a memo somewhere.

 

I swallow and turn away from the table. "What's all this?"

 

Baz smiles at me, and my stomach does a flip. (Thankfully not because of the food.) "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

 

"Uh… yeah?" I still don't see what that has to do with the little coloured bag and the shiny wrapping paper.

 

"Simon," Penny laughs, "haven't you ever gotten a birthday gift before?"

 

I blink. "Well… the Mage always sent me cards." My throat feels a little tight thinking about it.

 

Penny shakes her head, giggles ringing in the air like bubbles popping. "Here. Open it." She presses her box into my hands.

 

I hesitate for a moment, just staring at it. The wrapping paper is so reflective I can see my face in shades of metallic blue, and even my Christmas presents have never been wrapped in so much ribbon. It all seems much too lavish for something as mundane as a birthday.

 

"Well?" Penny asks. "Opening it is the best part! Tear the paper if you want to!"

 

Tear it? But it looks so proper.

 

"Are you sure?" I mumble, feeling very out of place.

 

"Trust me, Si," she says, grinning at me.

 

I dig my nails into the paper and pull, hard. The ripping sound is strangely fascinating, and I find myself tearing the paper over and over, even once the box is uncovered. I toss the shreds to the ground with a sort of childish glee. Baz reaches down and grabs the bow, then places it on my head. For some reason, this seems hilarious, and I struggle to balance the thing while my shoulders shake from laughter. It falls anyway, and I laugh harder, snorting a little.

 

Finally, I settle down, looking down at the bare box. It doesn't feel too heavy, but it's rather large, covering my lap. Carefully, I pull off the lid.

 

Inside is the softest-looking sweater I've ever seen. It's mostly blue, but it has a yellow stripe across the chest where the cerulean silhouettes of birds are flying. I pull it out of the box, wide-eyed, and hold it to my chest. It feels like clutching a cloud.

 

"Penny!" I gasp, looking up at her. "This is-- Merlin--" I have to take a moment to recover. "Thank you so much!"

 

Her smile is so bright, and when I jump to my feet to hug her she's warm. How lucky I am to have a sun like her in my life.

 

I step back and realise I've dropped the box in my haste, scooping down to grab it. I set it on the table before lifting the sweater over my head to put it on.

 

"Simon!" Pen laughs. "It's the middle of the summer!"

 

"I don't care," I grin. "I'm going to wear it every single day!"

 

When I'm snug in my sweater, wings a bit tight but still comfy, I turn to Baz-- and he holds out his bag, surprising me. I'd nearly forgotten he had a gift, too.

 

"Here," he smiles, and if Penny's smile is bright then his is soft.

 

I take the bag gingerly, scared to drop it, and pull out a few sheets of tissue paper before seeing a small box inside.

 

When I open the box, the necklace inside shines, and I'm left staring like a knobhead. Silver chain, it looks like, and the biggest gem I've ever seen, yellowy orange like a flame.

 

"Baz…"

 

He plays with his hair, the way he does when he's nervous. "It's a topaz. Do you like it?"

 

"Are you kidding?" I whisper. "Baz, it's gorgeous!" I feel my cheeks grow warm. "And probably expensive."

 

Shaking his head, he pushes his hair behind his ear. "I wouldn't settle for anything else." His eyes are so alive. "I love you, Simon. Happy birthday."

 

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I-- Baz--" I can't think of the right words, so I don't say any. I'm kissing him before I can even process it, and Crowley, I will never get tired of Baz's lips.

 

Pen clears her throat, and I pull away. Baz is a little pink in the cheeks.

 

"Right," I murmur. "Better put this one on too, then." I set the necklace in place and close the clasp, and I can't help but wonder if Baz charmed it, because my chest feels so warm now.

 

I kiss him again, a little more chaste this time, and give Penny another hug. I feel like I might cry. But in a good way somehow. I don't think I've ever understood the saying "tears of joy" until now.

 

"Thank you," I laugh. "Both of you. Really."

 

Penny ruffles my hair, and Baz wraps an arm around my waist, and everything feels right with the world.

 

We move into the living room to sit and talk a while longer, not really invested in any conversation so much as in being together. I never thought things could be like this, calm and quiet and lazy, not worrying about a thing.

 

After nearly an hour, Penny stands, stretching with a groan. "For no reason at all, I'm going to head out now." She winks at us, and Baz's cheeks take on a whisper of crimson. "I'll see you two tomorrow. Good night!"

 

"Night," I offer, smiling.

 

I hug her again, and Baz waves, and then she's gone.

 

Almost as soon as the door is closed, Baz throws his arms around my neck and pulls me into a searing kiss that leaves me breathless. I tilt my head to the side, groaning a little, and he slides a hand down to press at the small of my back. I feel weightless, like if my legs give out-- and they might if he keeps kissing me like this-- I'll float away and hug the moon.

 

He slips his other hand into my hair, tangling his fingers in my curls. I tip my head back so his nails scratch my scalp a bit, and he chases my lips. I grab at his waist like it'll make me feel a little less like I'm about to pass out. He sighs against me, like something out of a fairytale.

 

Then he squeezes my arse with one hand and tugs my hair with the other. The moan that leaves me is embarrassingly loud, and I pull back, cheeks burning.

 

He's giving me this knowing smirk, teasing and playful. It's making me hard.

 

"What, birthday sex?" I ask, and I can't help but laugh. "Is that what this is?"

 

"Maybe," Baz whispers, breath cold on my ear. I shiver, not just from the temperature.

 

"Isn't that a bit…" I shrug. "Cliché?"

 

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying you don't want to?"

 

I tighten my grip on his waist. "N-no!" The urgency in my voice is deafening.

 

He chuckles darkly, and the sound of it goes right to my groin. "It's not  _ just  _ birthday sex."

 

I bite my lip. "What does that mean, exactly?"

 

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, the necklace is nice and all, but I wanted to give you a real gift. Let's just say I have something in mind that I really think you'll like."

 

With the way he's talking, it's no wonder I'm squirming with arousal. "Yeah? You sure about that?"

 

He fucking  _ winks. _ "I have a good feeling."

 

I try to think of some clever, flirty line to shoot back at him, but at this point I'm so horny that even if I wasn't as bad with words as I am I'd be incapable. "Please," I whine instead.

 

His eyes flash dangerously, and I'm dragged into another mindblowing kiss. His mouth is vicious, and now that his erection is pressing into my thigh, his fangs have come out to play too.

 

With him like this, I doubt I'll last long once we start.

 

I pull back to breathe, panting and gasping, and he watches me with a hungry gaze.

 

"Merlin, I-- whatever it is, just show me. I'm so hard, my dick could cut through steel." I put on my best  _ fuck-me-right-now-please  _ face.

 

He grins, fangs glistening, and I shiver. "Take off the sweater. We don't want you soiling it the first time you've worn it."

 

I shuck the sweater off almost frantically and toss it onto the couch. (For a moment, I'm sort of embarrassed to be acting this way, now that I have the reminder that Penny was here only a few minutes ago.) (But then I remember that my boyfriend is fucking hot, and I don't care about anyone else right now.)

 

He drags me by the hand, throwing open the door to the bedroom. He lays down on his back and grins up at me, and if I wasn't hard already I would be now. I straddle his lap, and when I lean down to snog him some more our erections brush against each other. I groan and roll my hips, seeking more friction. He tangles his fingers in my hair again, and I love the sting when he pulls.

 

"Fuck," I groan, lifting my head. "Want you so bad." (I've never been good at dirty talk, but he doesn't mind.)

 

He laughs and presses his lips to my neck. "Well, then, I'd better get your present."

 

"Yes, please," I whimper, grabbing his shoulder like my life depends on it.

 

He slides out of my grip, and I flop onto the bed, watching him stand with ease even as my legs are shaking with need. "Wait here," he whispers.

 

"Don't take too long," I pout. "I can get off without you, you know."

 

He snickers. "Trust me, this will be better."

 

He disappears into the hall, and I bite my lip, waiting impatiently.

 

Only a minute later, he steps into the bedroom with something in his hand and closes the door. I squint to see what he's holding.

 

"What…"

 

He walks closer, holding it out to me. It's a plate piled high with food-- slices of butter, a bowl of cherry sauce, a can of whipped cream, chocolate sauce.

 

"Woah," I mumble. "Um… breakfast in bed? A bit late for that."

 

"Do you eat whipped cream for breakfast?" He snorts.

 

I roll my eyes. "That's not what I meant." Taking another glance at the plate, I bite my lip. "But… what's that for, then?"

 

He smirks at me. "We haven't had dessert yet, yeah? Think of it as an all-you-can-eat buffet."

 

"What's the catch?"

 

He sets the food down on the bedside table and pops open his top button, revealing a sliver of his bare chest.

 

"The catch," he growls, "is I'm the plate."

 

My mouth is watering already. "As in…"

 

"Whatever you want, wherever you want it. You're calling the shots." He looks just as ravenous as I feel.

 

I shift on the bed, so hard it hurts. "That's super hot, actually."

 

"I figured it would be," he grins. "I combined your two favorite things."

 

I think for a second. "Food and dick?"

 

His cheeks are dusted with scarlet. "I was thinking food and your boyfriend, but that works."

 

I flush, too. "Oh. Right."

 

"Well, are you going to get started or not?" He winks. "Bon appetit."

 

A shudder flies down my spine, and I lift myself to my knees on the mattress. Then I'm reaching out to where he's standing and pulling him closer. "Can't very well eat off you if you've got all those damn clothes on," I growl.

 

I practically tear his shirt off (he can spell that button back on later) and shove his trousers down his hips. And then it only makes sense that I take off my clothes too, so I strip, keeping my eyes fixed on Baz's.

 

"On the bed," I command, and Baz complies, laying down beneath me again. It's a ridiculous amount of power.

 

I tug off his pants, and he's so hard his cock doesn't even hit his stomach.

 

"Fuck," I groan.

 

He grins, looking the slightest bit feral with his fangs out.

 

And maybe I should wait until I have the food ready, but I can't help but lean down and pull the head of his cock into my mouth. He grunts, surprised. I only linger a moment before pulling off again, every atom in my being shaking. (Baz has told me more than once that I like sucking dick a bit too much for my own good.)

 

"Alright," I grin. "What should we start with?"

 

"Whatever you like," Baz laughs, hands splayed over his stomach.

 

I consider my options. "Well…" I reach for the butter and the little knife he's set down next to it.

 

He chuckles. "I know you like eating butter on its own, but I can't begin to understand why."

 

Shrugging, I dip my knife into the first slice. "Tastes good. What other reason is there?" I turn back to him, shivering. "Now, where to put it?"

 

All of him looks incredible. I don't know how he keeps it up, but he's always model-level gorgeous.

 

A wicked thought flies through my mind, and I feel my lips curl. I bring the butter knife down to his chest and smear it across his left nipple. He jumps at the cold butter on his skin, but I don't give him time to recover before giving his right one the same treatment. I set the knife back down almost without looking-- I can't keep my eyes off him.

 

"Simon?" He asks, cheeks a pale hint of rose.

 

"You said anywhere," I hiss.

 

I don't offer him any warning before diving down to lick the butter off his left nipple. He practically wails, grabbing my shoulders frantically as I drag my tongue across. I take great joy in how sensitive he is here, and tonight is no exception. His cock is rubbing against my stomach from the angle, which probably doesn't help. When I start to suck the dark bud into my mouth, his legs flail and shake beneath me, and he tips his head back like he can't bear to look anymore.

 

When I'm sure he's clean, I don't waste a second before moving to the right side of his chest. He seems even more responsive this time, whining and gasping as I nip and tug.

 

As nice as the noises he's making are, I have to admit the butter tastes great. It's like an incentive to keep teasing him.

 

Finally, I lift my head, thoroughly pleased with my work. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, meeting my eyes again, and he looks utterly debauched. I get so worked up seeing him this wrecked.

 

"Not done yet, are you?" I laugh.

 

He shudders. "Fuck… I knew you'd be into it, but…" I've rendered him speechless.

 

"That was just the appetizer," I warn him. "I'm not stopping anytime soon."

 

He sighs, but it's a good sigh, I think. He shifts on the bed, getting a little more comfortable. "Go ahead, then."

 

I glance over to the bedside table. Of course, my eyes are drawn to the bright red cherry sauce. I grab the bowl and bring it closer, smiling gleefully.

 

"Now," I giggle, "Where do you think I want this?"

 

He swallows. "No idea."

 

I pour the whole thing on his leaking cock. He yelps, still seemingly surprised by the whole pouring-food-on-his-body thing despite being the one to suggest it.

 

But fuck, if his cock wasn't appetising enough before…

 

I lower my head again and pull the head between my lips with a wet pop. He keens, thighs clamping onto either side of my head, but I'm too focused on how sweet the sauce is to notice. I slide down his length, sucking as best I can. I can feel my cheeks hollowing out from the effort. Baz gasps and writhes, and I know I must be doing a good job. After a little bit, I lift a hand to aid myself. It slides through the sticky sauce, essentially lubing my strokes, and that only seems to make Baz moan louder.

 

Slowly, I work my head down his shaft with sugar-fueled determination. If there's one thing Baz loves more than blowjobs, it's my lack of a gag reflex. (And yeah, all of this is meant to be a gift for me, but I enjoy sex more when Baz enjoys it too.) I sink down until I feel the familiar weight at the back of my throat, where I can't even taste the cherry anymore. Baz groans, and I can feel his hips twitching slightly as he tries to steady himself. I take the moment to move my tongue over the base of his cock, making sure I clean him off as best I can.

 

Finally, when his eyes are starting to roll back in his head and his hand is shaking where he grips my hair, I pull off of his cock, satisfied he's clean.

 

"Please," he whines. "I was right there."

 

I grin deviously. "I'm the one calling the shots, remember?"

 

He pouts, but doesn't argue.

 

"One last thing," I murmur. I reach for the can of whipped cream.

 

"Where's that for?" He sighs, looking right on the edge still.

 

I throw off my pants and flip our positions, so I'm laying on my back under him. (I know how to position my wings so I don't get hurt by now.) I lift my legs to his shoulders, already panting with anticipation. Then I raise the can and cover his cock in as much cream as I can.

 

"Fuck me," I growl, slamming the can onto the table.

 

His eyes are wide, but his pupils are blown. "Won't that hurt?"

 

"I don't care."

 

He shoves in hard, and I feel it in every bone in my body.

 

"Merlin!"

 

He was right, of course-- the stretch is making me wince. But to be perfectly honest, it's the hottest thing I think we've ever done.

 

"Are you--" he starts, concern clear.

 

"I'm fine," I assure him. "Just move."

 

He doesn't hesitate. The pace is breathtaking, and I let my head hit the pillow. Every thrust makes the mattress squeak, and I'm being pushed back and forth like a boat in the middle of a storm.

 

I don't know what it is about being filled up by a cock that I like so much. Maybe it's the fact that it's Baz's cock. I can feel every inch of him pressing into me just right, like we were made to fit together like this. I always find myself moaning and gasping before he's ever found my prostate.

 

Baz grips my ankles tight, hoisting my legs higher to get a better angle. "Crowley," he whines. "Simon, I can't-- I'm so close."

 

Figures he would be, after I blew him. And even though I haven't touched myself yet, I can feel my cock straining too. I have a feeling that only a few strokes will have me falling apart.

 

"Simon," he groans again. "Fuck…"

 

He lifts my legs even more, pushing his body forward until I'm nearly bent in half. The next thrust makes my vision go white, and I scream, grabbing at the sheets for leverage. Baz pauses, and when my vision clears he's smirking down at me.

 

He starts a breakneck pace, even faster than before, nailing my prostate every time. After only a few thrusts, I'm a blubbering mess, out of breath and so close to coming it hurts.

 

"Baz!" I keen, back arching. "Please, please, please! Touch me, please!"

 

He lets go of one of my ankles and grabs hold of my cock, and I'm gone. My body feels like a live wire, like electricity is coursing through me. Every muscle quivers, and I'm sobbing from the overstimulation.

 

I settle onto the bed, panting, and Baz pulls out, face redder than it's been all night. I glance down, and the sight makes something stir in me. My hole is dribbling with white, and I can't tell the come from the whipped cream.

 

He lets go of me, and I let my legs fall, feeling utterly sore. I don't mind. He lays on top of me, weighing heavy on my chest, and presses a kiss to my lips.

 

"Baz," I sigh. "I love you."

 

He smiles, eyelids drooping from exhaustion. "Happy birthday, Simon."


End file.
